“No more numbers or stats, please, Alfie, unless you want me to unleash Havoc on you,” she told him, muting her com with a swipe of her fingers across the brim of the helmet. “And stop popping into my mind unannounced.”

Dex jostled the backpack a little too roughly over his shoulder, silencing the angry feline.

A mother and child walked past, heading for the loading dock of a giant freight ship. On its bow, a flag bearing the Solis crest waved proudly, the false snowflakes landing upon it like gentle kisses. And all across the city—on the sides of the icy buildings, flickering atop the turrets of the castles—were massive holograms of Nor Solis. Her rouged lips were curved in a deceptive smile, and her eyes bore down on the city, as if she were demanding any of them to defy her.

Andi felt her hands balling into fists, nails digging into her palms beneath her gloves.

“I know,” Dex said, stepping closer. “Trust me. I know.”

Seeing this display of power made anger well up in her chest. It was as if the queen was teasing her, testing her, waiting for Andi to crack under her watchful gaze.

“We have to move,” Andi said. If she stood here any longer, staring at the people, staring at the massive hologram of her enemy, she might very well rush into the writhing crowd and tear everyone apart, limb from limb. Or she’d unzip Havoc and let him loose in the hope that, with everyone she took down, she could somehow weaken Nor, bit by bit.

A million tallies on her swords.

A million deaths to mourn, at her own hands.

Her girls, her crew, wouldn’t have to wait much longer for her. For when they found the Underground, Andi wouldn’t rest until she made it back to Arcardius and ripped them away from Nor’s iron grip.

With a deep breath, Andi stepped forward, Dex behind her as they followed the citizens of Craatia onto the waiting ship.

CHAPTER 13

DEX

It took no more than ten minutes for the ship to traverse the frozen lake and enter the city. The outskirts of Craatia contained the financial district, its castle-like structures overflowing with Soleran men and women dressed in the latest cold-weather fashions. Their brows were crusted with false icicles, their hair dyed shades of blue, purple and white to match the wintry cold beyond the dome.

“Klarisa said the entrance to the Underground is within an ice pub in the Briog Sector,” Dex said, reciting what the Guardian had told him in her final moments. “But in the capital city of an ice planet, how many of those pubs exist?”

“A hell of a lot,” Andi said. “Or perhaps not enough, depending on how you look at it.”

He could use a drink. Or two or three. The bag over his shoulder hissed again as Dex and Andi disembarked.

Okay, perhaps four drinks, he thought.